Thursday.
9:11 AM.
Singhaniya Tech.
Anika was already at her desk.
Earlier than usual.
Not because of work.
Because being here felt easier than being alone with her thoughts.
Laptop open.
Inbox cleared.
Calendar aligned.
Every minute accounted for.
Nothing slipped.
Because control was the only thing that still made sense.
Her phone lay beside her.
Screen dark.
But her mind-
Wasn't.
9:37 PM.
Two seconds.
That number hadn't left.
It sat somewhere at the back of her head like an unanswered question she didn't want to read aloud.
So she worked.
Faster than usual.
Sharper.
Cleaner.
Like precision could silence memory.
9:16 AM.
The elevator doors opened.
He walked in.
And like always-
The air shifted.
Subtle.
Unspoken.
Unavoidable.
"Good morning, sir."
"Morning."
Short.
Flat.
Controlled.
Nothing new.
Nothing different.
Except-
He didn't look at her.
Not even once.
Not a flicker.
Not a pause.
Nothing.
And somehow-
That felt worse.
Because yesterday-
He had.
Anika didn't react.
Didn't look up.
Didn't pause her typing.
But her fingers-
Missed a beat.
Just once.
Then recovered.
Because that's what she did.
9:21 AM.
The intercom buzzed.
She didn't hesitate this time.
"Yes, sir."
A pause.
"Conference room. Now."
Flat.
Professional.
No room for interpretation.
She stood.
Picked up her tablet.
Walked past the glass corridors.
Each step measured.
Each breath controlled.
Because something about this-
Felt different.
9:24 AM.
Conference Room.
The room was already occupied.
Senior team.
Strategy deck open.
Numbers displayed.
Tension-
Professional.
Not personal.
Not yet.
Vihaan stood at the head of the table.
Explaining something.
Voice steady.
Composed.
Exactly as always.
Anika stepped in.
Took her place beside the screen.
Not across.
Not far.
Beside.
Closer than usual.
And that-
That was new.
His words didn't stop.
Didn't falter.
But his awareness-
Shifted.
Because proximity-
Changes things.
"-we move forward with Phase 2 only if the margin stabilizes within-"
"2.8%."
Her voice.
Calm.
Precise.
Seamless.
He didn't look at her.
"...Correct."
But the pause before that word-
Was there.
Small.
But real.
The meeting continued.
Slides shifted.
Discussions moved.
Voices layered over numbers.
Everything normal.
Except-
They kept reaching for the same things.
Remote.
File.
Pen.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
And every time-
They stopped.
A fraction before contact.
Like the space between them-
Was charged.
Invisible.
But dangerous.
"Pull up the revised projection" he said.
She nodded.
Stepped closer to the screen.
Plugged in her device.
The screen flickered.
Updated.
And in that moment-
He stepped forward too.
To point something out.
Closer than necessary.
Closer than usual.
Too close.
Her shoulder brushed his.
Barely.
A ghost of contact.
But enough.
Her breath hitched.
Quiet.
Almost inaudible.
But not to him.
He stilled.
Just for a second.
Not visible.
Not obvious.
But there.
Because that-
That shouldn't have mattered.
But it did.
"Zoom in on this section," he said.
Voice steady.
Controlled.
But lower now.
Closer.
Because he hadn't stepped back.
And neither had she.
Her fingers moved on the trackpad.
But slower.
Because suddenly-
Every movement felt... deliberate.
Measured.
Observed.
"Here?" she asked.
Soft.
Professional.
But not untouched.
"Lower."
His voice-
Closer.
Too close.
She adjusted.
Screen shifted.
But her focus-
Wasn't on the numbers anymore.
It was on-
Awareness.
Of him.
Right there.
Someone across the table spoke.
Asked a question.
The moment broke.
Slightly.
But not completely.
Because once awareness settles-
It doesn't leave.
9:58 AM.
The meeting ended.
Chairs moved.
Files closed.
People left.
Voices faded.
Until-
Only two remained.
Silence.
But not empty.
Not calm.
Anika stepped back first.
Distance.
Restored.
Deliberate.
"Anything else, sir?"
There.
That word again.
Placed carefully.
Like a boundary.
He didn't answer immediately.
Just looked at her.
Not long.
Not obvious.
But this time-
Not absent either.
"...No."
Flat.
Controlled.
But not untouched.
She nodded.
Turned.
Walked out.
Door closing behind her.
Soft.
But the silence left behind-
Was louder.
11:36 AM.
The day moved.
Emails.
Calls.
Deadlines.
Everything back to-
Normal.
Except-
It wasn't.
Because every time the intercom buzzed-
Her pulse shifted.
Because every time someone mentioned his name-
Her attention followed.
Because every time she walked past his cabin-
She was aware.
Of whether the door was open.
Or closed.
And that-
That wasn't normal.
3:47 PM.
The intercom buzzed.
Again.
She picked it up.
"Yes, sir."
A pause.
"Bring the Singapore file."
Flat.
Professional.
Her fingers tightened.
Just slightly.
Then-
"On my way."
She stood.
Picked up the file.
Walked to his cabin.
Knocked once.
Entered.
Inside-
Quiet.
Controlled.
Like always.
But the air-
Heavier.
She stepped forward.
Placed the file on his desk.
Didn't linger.
Didn't wait.
Turned-
"Anika."
Her name.
Not "stay."
Not "one minute."
Just-
Her name.
She paused.
Back still to him.
"...Yes, sir?"
Silence.
A second.
Two.
"Look at this."
Professional.
Safe.
She turned.
Walked back.
Stood beside his desk.
Not too close.
Not too far.
Measured.
He opened the file.
Pointed at a section.
Explained something.
Work.
Just work.
But his hand-
Was too close to hers.
Again.
And this time-
Neither moved immediately.
A second passed.
Too long.
Then-
Her fingers shifted.
Lightly.
Brushing his.
A pause-
too long to be accidental.
She pulled back instantly.
Like it burned.
He didn't.
Not immediately.
His hand stayed there.
For half a second longer.
Like he felt it too.
Then-
He moved.
Slow.
Controlled.
Silence filled the space again.
Different now.
Not professional.
Not neutral.
"Anything else, sir?" she asked.
Voice steady.
But thinner.
A pause.
Longer this time.
"...No."
But softer.
She nodded.
Turned.
Walked out.
Again.
Door closed.
Again.
But this time-
The distance didn't feel controlled.
It felt-
Fragile.
6:12 PM.
Work Floor.
The office began to empty.
Chairs pushed back.
Systems shut down.
Voices faded.
Anika packed her things.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Like leaving too fast would mean something.
She stood.
Picked up her bag.
Walked toward the exit.
And just before she crossed the glass corridor-
She felt it.
That gaze.
She didn't turn immediately.
Didn't react.
Didn't acknowledge.
But after a second-
She did.
Looked.
His cabin door was open.
He stood inside.
Not working.
Not moving.
Just-
Looking.
At her.
He didn't call out.
But his hand-
tightened slightly against the glass.
Like stopping himself-
was taking effort.
A pause stretched between them.
Across glass.
Across distance.
Across everything they weren't saying.
And then-
She broke it.
Looked away.
Turned.
Walked out.
Because staying-
would've meant acknowledging it.
And she wasn't ready for that.
Write a comment ...